


Spicy Friendship Styles

by Makizushi



Series: Friendship is Magic (But Magic is Bullshit) [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon-Typical Douchebaggery - All Characters, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Slurs, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makizushi/pseuds/Makizushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cronus and Mituna have a conversation about the nature of their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spicy Friendship Styles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VastDerp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDerp/gifts).



> [Tsunamayo Makizushi's Writing Tumblr](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com)

The riverside was a good place to hang. Mituna liked being near his dads, even if they were in the mood to hoard the goddamn mind honey. It was going to work, they would see. He was going to eat the mind honey and the power would turn on in his head and he would be able to fly and talk and _think_ again. It was going to be so rad. If he could just eat enough to fucking spark, not enough to go full psionic meltdown but… just fizzle a little, just flip the switch. That’s all he needed and things could be good again, now and forever. It had to work and that it hadn’t worked yet just meant that he had to eat more.

It had been ages though, ages beyond counting. Still, even without a brain sometimes things were fairly good. Almost “normal” really, whatever that even meant. Normal for being dead, and not just dead but doomed right out of the egg. Normal for whatever freakish zombie half-life they all currently “lived” for lack of a better word, not that words were his fucking forte anymore. Maybe there _was_ a word that meant normal for a reality that could chew his thinkpan to shreds and _still_ shit them into little pockets of dreams queefed from the darkest nether regions of horror spewing insanity eating _bulge limbed shit squids_.

Fuck fuck fuck! Okay. It’s okay. It’s like troll Outkaste said in his scathing commentary on the social hierarchy, “What’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold.” He was _ice cold_ , he was calm as _fuck_ , he was a cool, composed, cull-exempt motherfucker. Pfff, social commentary. Like that ever even mattered a little bit when their whole society was as doomed as a… doomed thing. Fuck. Anyway, Kankri was into that stuff. Words.

On good nights, not the best nights but pretty good ones, Mituna tried to hang out with Kankri. The dude was an asshole but so was he, and at least Mituna didn’t feel bad for geysering gibberish at him. As far as he was concerned verbal spewage was a shared hobby of theirs. At least Mituna’s bullshit came labeled accordingly; retard dribble, exactly what it said on the tin. So their compassionate leader all but called him retarded to his face; that was better than the fixed smiles, the edging away and leaning back, the nasty platonic pity Rufio, and Aranea, and _fucking Horuss_ of all people slathered him with. FUCK them except ugh, no. God no, no no no. No no no no, no no no!

He was starting to get too agitated to sit still on the soft grass, but it was clearly the start of a not-so-good night. Visiting Kankri took a special sort of half-mischievous, half-masochistic mood that he wasn’t feeling at the moment, but he wasn’t good enough for Latula right now. Latula got the best nights, when he remembered to think about that sort of thing. Mituna knew, he felt guilty knowing, but he knew Latula sometimes swerved into the platonic pity zone. It wasn’t her _fault_ exactly, and she did it far less than the others, but did people think he didn’t notice? That he couldn’t see the misery and discomfort clearly broadcast in every line of their bodies? He might be stupid but he wasn’t _stupid_. No, fuck that in the softest, wettest part it had like the filthy slut it was.

Maybe he WAS in the mood to visit Kankri. They could be uncomfortable and miserable together. It was incredibly lonely in his head and his thoughts were starting to get so loud that even Kankri’s company would be welcome. Or he could visit Kurloz but… Kurloz, haha, wow, that guy. Fantastic moirail material right there. Whenever Mituna got really truly bad he just had to go hang with Kurloz and all his problems faded away. Literally. He supposed they piled but honestly time spent with him was always a blur. Or maybe blank was the right word. Time with Kurloz was blank spaces. Time and space with nothing in it, but that was fine because nothingness was the base state of things and doom pervaded their entire perverted existence.

The bank of the bullshit fake fake _fake_ river swayed around him as he giggle-snorted at the whole lot of his “friends” clinging to the very edges of reality with rotted claws and aging, yellowed teeth. God, they were so dead it was hilarious. Well and truly dead, dead forever which he knew because no one was dying. Not anymore and not ever again or he’d hear their muttering and their moaning echoing through his empty thinkpan. It had been blessedly silent in his head ever since he burned his brains out but maybe the doomed screams hadn’t gone away he’d just gone deaf at the final agonizing _SHOUT_ that their entire universe gave moments before the light and the pain and the sudden confusing horrifying _silence_.

The words were piling up again, getting away and overwhelming him so that they didn’t actually _mean_ anymore, they didn’t _sound_ anymore except BIG and THERE. After checking to make sure his helmet was in place Mituna staggered to his feet and started walking toward Kankri’s castle-like living (deathing) area. If words were going to beat the shit out of his brain anyway at least he didn’t have to feel so fucking lonely while it happened. He hummed tunelessly to himself along the way to drown the loud quiet that bred the words. While he didn’t always remember the doomed voices, when he did there were 50/50 odds he’d be fantastically relieved they were gone, with a 50% chance the quiet would drive him buggy.

Everything sucked. Paradox space sucked great squirming bulges and he’d totally melted his ice cold calm but maybe Kankri would be up for listening to some sick beats that were also about the ills of their nonexistent society. He would suggest it and Kankri would be so impressed and he would be the _hero_. The corner happened at a really unfair moment when he was engrossed in this scheme and he may have bumped into the wall and stumbled clumsily but no one was around to laugh at him so it was okay. It was so okay he chuckled at himself because it was kinna funny and man, he needed to practice his fall-down slat moves more. These hallways would be great for practicing with their smooth tile and really, why wasn’t he shredding it up on his rad injury panel _right now_ \- oh it was Kankri’s room already look at that.

The door wasn’t fully closed and swung open when he knocked, revealing Kankri and _oh shit Cronus_. Umm, what was that reaction even about? Cronus was fine, Cronus was great, Mituna was friends with Cronus, Cronus himself said so all the time. Good friends. He entered the room at a slight stumble, a reoccurring theme of the evening, and gaped at them in the startled silence. There was something right on the tip of his tongue; it was there just a moment ago. It was – it was… no… he was supposed to be the hero and now he’d _lost_ it, fuck, why was he even fucking here?!

He wheezed breathily at them, he had run from his thoughts and into Kankri’s room rather quickly, and smiled to buy some time. Whatever it was would come back to him if he just stopped thinking about it. For now, he attempted a casual wave said “Heylo, sup guise?” Argh, ‘heylo’? Really? What the fuck was that brain? No! Fucking… he came here because he wasn’t supposed to have to care what he sounded like. Why Cronus?!

“Why Cronuts?” Ahaha, fuck, he said that out loud. One of his hands clamped itself over his mouth almost of its own volition to stifle the inevitable snickering he could feel rising from his chest. Cronus frowned like a douchy purple thunder cloud and Kankri fixed him with an exasperated glare.

“Was that a philosophical inquiry or are you simply surprised to find Cronus in my company?” Kankri stood up from his desk with a sigh and Cronus took a hasty step back. Before Mituna’s grand entrance he had been practically draped across the back of Kankri’s chair, presumably looking at something on the computer screen. The expression on Cronus’ face twisted to something approaching livid behind Kankri’s back, but smoothed immediately to his usual pleasant sneer when Kankri turned to him. “I apologize for the interruption. Mituna often comes to visit with me without even a polite by-your-leave. There seems to be nothing I can do about it. I hope you will excuse me for just a moment.”

Mituna hated that. He was _right fucking here_ for fuck’s sake. “I didn realizze ‘ere waz an asshole partney. I can’t belief you didnotn’t invite me, you thaying you’re outa my leagg?” He wiggled his eyebrows extravagantly, forgetting for a moment they were covered by his helmet. “Or maybee I’m outa yorz, yeah? Don worry bb all yous gotta do ith arsk and ‘Tula an I’d inbite you two our ass parpy.” The prude’s obscenely long-lived crush on Latula was getting beyond hilarious and at this point the two of them were of half a mind to do some sexy problem solving.

Kankri folded his arms and turned up his nose like a disapproving culler. “Perhaps I would invite you to spend time with me if you stopped showing up at my door uninvited. These intrusions are monumentally rude of you even considering the limitations of your disability. I would never dream of using trite culling maxims like ‘To be respected one must act worthy of respect’ but honestly I can almost see the kernel of wisdom that abhorrent practice was built around in your case.”

Cronus grinned smugly and Mituna felt that gnawing, sinking sensation in his stomach that came when people made fun of him to his face. The name of the feeling escaped him, but it made him twitchy and worse at words. “I also am sure I have no idea what you were saying about our dear mutual friend Latula, though I do hope it was not anything lascivious. Knowing you it likely meant nothing but it would be courteous if you could remember _my_ special needs regarding my vow when I regularly go so far out of my way to accommodate you and your’s.” That went on for a while until Kankri said, “You know I _actually_ have a variety of important tasks to accomplish tonight so perhaps it would be best if both of you left me to my own devises. I- Yes?”

Cronus cut Kankri off by tapping his shoulder, which was good because Mituna still couldn’t figure out what was going on in his stomach. He thought he’d narrowed it down to annoyed or guilty maybe. Guiltnoy. Heh. Even if that wasn’t a word it should be. Emotions were difficult; maybe if there were more words to describe emotions it wouldn’t be so hard to figure out how he was feeling all the time. Maybe guiltnoy _was_ a word and he’d just forgotten. He opened his mouth to ask when suddenly Cronus was in his space with an arm clamped firmly around his shoulder. He froze and almost missed what Cronus was saying.

“Ah man, sorry about that chief. I’m pretty sure Mituna was looking for me, weren’t you bud?” Cronus smiled but it seemed more aimed at Kankri than him.

He sputtered “Wha, nneh, I wath-” He was here for Kankri… wasn’t he? Something about ice. “I waz cool ana hero? No wait, thath note right...” Neither of them were listening to him anymore. He felt himself shuffled backwards out of the door while the two of them made goodbye noises at each other. As soon as Kankri’s door was shut behind them the smile slid off Cronus’ face and the grip on his shoulder turned to iron.

“The _fuck_ was that?!” Cronus hissed in Mituna’s face. The stupid, soggy tobacco cylinder in his mouth bobbed and almost escaped his lips. He thought _he_ was the one who spat when he talked, but he could feel flecks of cold spit on his cheek. Ugh, gross.

“Ino I’m hott stuff but tryan creep your sthhhpit to your shelf.”

“I was tryin’ to have a nice, _adult_ conversation.” Cronus grabbed Mituna’s upper arm and dragged him down the hall. “Do you know how _difficult_ it is to have a quiet, meaningful chat with you grinning and drooling in the background? No wonder he kicked us both out, you ruin everything! Why? Why did you do this to me?!” Mituna shook his head in alarm, not at the question he’d hardly processed but at the hand on his arm hauling him around like a naughty wiggler. Cronus kicked a random door open and dragged him into what looked like an almost empty, unused room. Was there a reason for all the treasure chests everywhere? No, wait, he wasn’t thinking about that stupid mystery right now he was thinking about the angry sea troll attached to one of his very favorite limbs.

“No! No no no.” He tried to twitch and jerk out of Cronus’ grasp but his claws just dug in, snagging his suit and scratching his skin.

“That’s not an answer, ret... related to the question. Tell me, is it your goal in life to bulge block me? I was finally getting somewhere with that wordy fuck, do you understand?” Cronus shook him like a bark beast with a toy, his blank eyes narrowed in fury. Mituna could feel his bicep transforming into one large bruise.

“No you fuckerthththt!” Ah, wonderful, he’d lost control of his mouth completely. Pressure built behind his eyes and in his sinuses like a sneeze, or a truly spectacular crying fit. He gulped air and tried to breathe so he could fucking _talk_.

“Oh, so you DIDN’T just liberally apply libidocide all the fuck over my general area? Don’t feed me lies ‘PAL,’ I’ve got your number.” He shoved Mituna away from him, his face scrunched up in disgust. Mituna could hardly bring himself to care though, he was just glad the aggressive touching had stopped. “As if I’m not SO on to you, pretending to be my friend and then stabbing me in the back right when I’m at my most vulnerable. You just HAD to wait until I was opening up to someone, until I finally had a chance at filling a quadrant, or at least a pail. Fuck you ‘buddy.’”

“I’m sorry.” He was sorry too. Cronus was clearly upset about having his time with Kankri cut short. “Less go hand out wit him tomorrow. He dun care I doit alla the tame.” Mituna smiled reassuringly. Kankri wasn’t hard; just let him talk and he’d let you hang around for ages. Mituna would show Cronus how it was done and everyone could be happy.

“What?! No! I’m not going back there with _you_! Did you just not hear what I said about you being literal sexual poison?” Cronus stepped back into Mituna’s personal space, gesturing sharply. “Is that retar- ridiculous helmet interfering with your hearing?”

A switch flipped somewhere in Mituna’s thorax and suddenly he was _spitting mad_. “FUCK YOUyou squid humping braine fucking SUCK! Inthert your hadgear into whatever dripping oriorifiththe tackles your fantacy!”

Cronus snarled, grabbed Mituna’s helmet, and wrenched it off of his head, scraping the ever loving shit out of his horns. His was shouting now, his accent getting thicker the more furious he became. “Get this stupid piece of shit off, you probably don’t even fuckin’ need it, just usin’ it to make people feel bad for you. Like _that_ isn’t the most tired ploy in any univwerse. Maybe you could try listenin’ to me for once instead of ignorin’ me while hidin’ your head in a bucket.” He grabbed for the helmet but Cronus chucked it away from them and pushed Mituna against the wall.

“OW OW OWWW DA FUCKS WRONG WITHTH YOU?! I want you ta not be _touch_ ing me! Go mathstirbate a prickle buththth with hotthauce lube!”

“You think I have to put up with that from you? I am _royalty_ you ungrateful dirt-blooded peasant! In any decent society I would _own_ you! Filth like you wouldn’t even dare to look at me. Instead I have to put up with you stumblin’ around like a pan-rotted _moron_ bein’ disgustin’ in every conceivwable way. I’d ask if you sat around makin’ lists of ways to be offensive but clearly real words are beyond your mental capacity, much less readin’ and writin’.” Without the barrier of his visor Cronus suddenly seemed impossibly close.

Also, he was kind of right? Words _were_ the original problem that sent him scrambling to Kankri in the first place. He remembered that much. His anger drained away as quickly as it had come. “I’m sorry.”

“Ugh, stop sayin’ that. You want people to just roll over for you and accept all of your putrid noise because ‘hurr ahm thorry.’” The cruel imitation made sudden, unbidden tears spring to Mituna’s eyes and he looked away from Cronus’ hateful, mocking glare. “Are you seriously crying? No, wait, that’s right, you _should_ be crying. You’re lucky to have a friend like me who refuses to lie to you just to pretend everythin’ is all fine and dandy. Well it’s _not_ , you’re a pan-damaged reject and I cannot fathom why we as a group haven’t ejected you into paradox space yet.” Cronus grabbed his arm and shook him again. “Look at me when I’m talking to you retard! If I have to pretend to respect you the least _you_ can do is offer me the barest sliver of the respect _I_ deservwe.”

Mituna felt tears track down his face over burn scars he got while _saving_ their doomed asses. Except, no, they were all still dead. Dead, dead, dead and nothing he had done fixed that. It only trapped them in this hellish living death with the added benefit of completely fucking his brain. A good half of the words Cronus spat at him weren’t making sense, or only made sense after he’d moved on to a completely different point, but the gist seemed to confirm that Mituna was every bit as pathetic as everyone assumed. “I’m sorr- rrmghfff.” Don’t say sorry, don’t say sorry, don’t say- “I... apolologizth?” He bit his lip and cringed away from the hand on his arm, but he was against a wall and had nowhere to go.

Cronus sighed audibly, but he seemed calmer. “I don’t know if I should even forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you more times than I can even remember yet here we are. Maybe if you _acted_ sorry I’d be able to believe you _were_ sorry.” The yelling had stopped, which was good, but the touching only intensified. Cronus’ other hand came to rest on his waist after tucking his tobacco cylinder behind his ear. Like a nasty, slobbery flower.

“Please forgift me again, I-” But he couldn’t think of what to say after that, the hands on his body disrupted each train of thought before it got rolling.

A shark’s smile lit Cronus’ face. “Let’s talk about our friendship, yeah? I think it’s pretty unbalanced right now to be honest, chief. But that’s what healthy communication is for, right? You wanna fix this, don’t cha?” The cold hands on him seemed to leech the warmth from his body until he was shivering. A swirl of confused, indecipherable emotions sloshed around inside his thinkpan. The feeling was like angry bees buzzing in his brain, and each bee was the word NO, poisonous and sharp. But he _did_ want to fix this, he did, so he clamped his mouth shut tight, trapping the bees, and nodded his head.

“Mm, that’s good. Because I want to be good friends with you. I feel like I’ve always tried to get close to you but your massive brain problems and foul personality have stood in the way.” Cronus’ hand ran slowly up Mituna’s side and back down to his hip, his claws catching in the fabric of his suit and prickling his skin. It made his stomach twist sourly. There were a bare few inches between them now; Cronus was so close he could feel his breath in his hair when his voice dropped to an intimate tone. “Don’t you want to be _good_ friends?”

Mituna tilted his head away and squirmed as much as he could to test Cronus’ grip on him. The words finally burst out of him. “No, nononono, nngh, no helz to theno no _no_.” When breaking free of the arms that caged him in proved impossible he tried to get Cronus to drop him by going limp. Instead he slid down the wall fractionally before he was pinned up by his arms.

“You _don’t_ want to be friends?! Please, I was just forced to witness you slobber all over Kankri while invitin’ him to a fuckin’ threesome. What are you tryna pull?” Cronus’ breath was cold on his neck, sending renewed shivers down his spine. “I can’t believe you’re playin’ coy with me after that revwolting display. You think I’m as stupid as you?”

Each word felt like a tiny knife against his skin. This was… this was really not good, he needed to leave. In an attempt to flee he kicked at Cronus’ ankles, but only succeeded in getting his feet tangled together. Cronus tripped a bit, but managed to hold Mituna’s full weight up by one arm before falling forward and pressing him hard against the wall. Cronus said, “If that’s how you wanna do this I’m game” before sinking his teeth into Mituna’s shoulder and ripping a hole in his suit. The thin stretchy material seemed to tear like gauze; the rip pulling wider the more Mituna struggled.

Even the word _no_ seemed to have abandoned him; he was left with nothing but a high whining keen that sounded a bit like crying and a bit like wind. His gloved hands scrambled against Cronus’ arms but he wasn’t strong enough to push him away, his claws weren’t sharp enough to do much damage. The hand on his hip held him still while Cronus ground the obvious bulge in his pants into his abdomen. His intestines had been replaced with cold lead, the doom of their universe weighed his shoulders down, his mind buzzed frantically with too many thoughts. It all made it difficult to move or react.

Cronus nuzzled his neck and cheek, the smell of Mituna’s own blood on his breath. “It’s okay to want this, it’s just a closer style of friendship, more honest.” Mituna felt like the air was being crushed from his lungs. “A good friend should accept a person’s feelings, and be open to how they express affection. I’ve always thought of you as a close buddy of mine.” Nothing about this felt right, not at all like when Latula touched him. In a small, shrinking corner of his mind he felt grateful for that; he couldn’t bear it if being with Latula was ruined by this.

Cronus pinned him to the wall with his hips and groped along his side, pulling at the fabric of his jumpsuit. “The hell is even up with these clothes? Help a bro out, I know you want to get started as much as I do.”

Mituna gaped at him for a moment before processing what he’d said. Half formed words fell out of his mouth in a jumble. “Thatz my juntsuit, iznot off go lemme off geroff me plz off pleaze _pleath_.”

“Ugh, didn’t you hear me? I’m _trying_ to help you get it off but you’re being annoying about it. You know, let’s just-” Cronus reached his hand between them, between Mituna’s legs, grabbed a handful of cloth and _yanked_. “You have more clothes, right?” His claws went through the fabric with practically no resistance; the little refuge in his brain still thinking stupid little thoughts marveled at the fact he apparently went around practically unclothed all the time. Claws brushed glancingly against his nook and bulge sheath, and somehow this seemed to be the signal for his body to unfreeze. Mituna wiggled and kicked, he braced himself against the wall and pushed with everything he had. He even reached desperately for his psionics, forgetting for a moment they’d abandoned him to die along with everything else.

Cronus was not pleased. “Oh, _now_ you’re getting’ cold feet? No, you can’t just lead a guy on like that only to cut and run. That’s not how this works. Hold still.” Mituna had zero intention of holding still. His arm felt bruised to the bone but he still tried to painfully wrench himself free. One of his flailing legs almost managed to catch Cronus in the bulge. He snarled, electing an even fiercer snarl from Cronus. Cronus left off tearing at Mituna’s clothes to slam him against the wall repeatedly, his head cracking and his horns ringing with pain each time. “Stop! Acting! Like! A bulge tease!!!”

While Mituna was still reeling dizzily Cronus unbuttoned his black jeans one handed and freed his already unsheathed bulge. The damp, questing tip of it pressed against Mituna’s upper thigh and worked itself inside one of the holes in his suit. Cold slime dripped down the front of his leg, making his shivers redouble their efforts to shake him to pieces. He imagined falling apart in Cronus’ hands like dry, crumbling sand; impossible to hold onto. The inside of his mouth tasted like blood, he must have accidently bitten himself.

It was incredibly difficult to focus on anything for more than a moment. Should he flail and struggle or should he keep his legs pressed tightly together? Should he focus on trying to force some words out of his mouth, or on plotting an escape? Should he listen to Cronus, for all that he was hurting him right now, because they were supposed to be friends? Did he want to get away or did he want this, truly, like Cronus said he did? Everything was happening so fast and so _much_ it was paralyzing, slowing him down when he needed to _do_ something.

Cronus seemed to benefit from a singular purpose of mind. He forced Mituna’s trembling legs apart and lifted him by his thighs, like he was going to fuck an _unwilling_ person while standing against a wall. The stupid thoughts bunker offered the idea that Cronus had no idea of what he was doing, that he was going to be raped by a guy who thought sex was what he’d seen on troll porntube. Even with his nook exposed and his legs spread around Cronus’ waist there just wasn’t space for Cronus’ bulge to gain access and without Mituna’s cooperation there wouldn’t be. Absurdly, Mituna felt an overwhelming urge to giggle and cry at the same time.

Troll anatomy wasn’t equipped with enough hands to pull this off. Mituna pushed Cronus away with his arms, tried to throw them off balance, kicked his legs and generally made fucking him impossible. After a long minute Cronus snarled in frustration and Mituna flinched, sure he was about to be hit again. Instead, he felt himself slide down the wall as Cronus sunk to his knees. His breath was cold on Mituna’s neck and he felt the words against his skin before he understood them. “Don’t make this difficult. I’m not steppin’ on your quadrants, not that you deserve to have any. I don’t see what the problem is, stop being ridiculous.”

Cronus lifted and manhandled Mituna by his arm and his waist until his bulge finally found the lips of his nook. An animal, whimpering noise was happening, but Mituna didn’t have attention to spare. The damp tip wiggled clumsily, stroking him so that it almost tickled and trying to burry itself inside him. Sticky genetic material smeared between his thighs felt like cold lube, shocking and unwanted. In a last desperate effort Mituna tried to scream and kick but all he managed was “Gnkk!” and his thrashing stupidly pushed himself onto Cronus’ bulge.

Mituna wasn’t ready, he had never felt less turned on in his life. Cronus’ bulge stretched and stung him despite its damp slickness. More tears ran down his face and he scraped his horns against the wall to try and feel something different, to distract himself from the insistent pushing in his nook. Noises were happening, grunts and whines and harsh breaths that were almost, _almost_ , drowned out by the heartbeat in his ears and the white hissing in his head.

Struggling mostly just forced Cronus’ bulge deeper inside him and every inch was more painful than the last. Without his own arousal making his nook slick and ready every twitch was like sandpaper and Cronus’ relatively average size felt like it would split him in half. After a minute of going tortuously slow, Cronus hauled him in close by the waist. Mituna screamed breathlessly at Cronus’ bulge being forced the rest of the way inside him so suddenly. Cronus slid an arm around him and leaned in to mouth at his neck. Teeth scraped the sensitive spot under his ear just as the bulge in him brushed against a particularly sweet spot. Cronus hummed and held him more tightly, likely pleased that Mituna was finally getting wet. That wasn’t right though, not if he didn’t want this.

Nausea threatened to make him puke all over himself but it subsided quickly when Cronus shifted and he was finally fully seated inside Mituna’s nook. Regardless of Mituna’s frame of mind, his biological system seemed to have caught on. After an embarrassingly short time he was more than wet, he was practically dripping genetic fluid like a slurry gushing whore. His bulge even started to make an appearance, making all of his struggling feel like a lie. He didn’t want this though! He didn’t he didn’t he- cold lips were being pressed his and he turned his face away suddenly, shoving Cronus’ mouth off him. Cronus’ pleased hum turned into an annoyed growl. “Oh, what? Baby doesn’t want a smooch? You want _this_ though don’t you?” His bulge thrashed deep in Mituna’s nook, making his back arch and legs kick helplessly. A smug, self-satisfied grin spread across his face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The prickling spikes of arousal stabbing his stomach fought with the waves of nausea making a comeback appearance. Mituna’s bulge tips flopped feebly, smearing yellow over his own partially clothed stomach. He was almost grateful Cronus ignored it, so completely focused on his own good time. After what felt like ages, (but what he recognized later as a shamefully short time) Mituna felt cold flood his nook and fill his gene bladder with ice. Cronus panted and pulled out slowly, leaving Mituna feeling too full and too empty at the same time. He let Mituna flop to the floor on his side where he wheezed and sniffled damply for a few quiet seconds.

He couldn’t actually see Cronus through his sweaty hair and tear blurry eyes, but his voice suddenly sounded awkward. “You uh… you want some help with that chief?” Mituna flinched and whined when Cronus’ hand wrapped around the half of his bulge that was still out. This was worse than being filled, worse than being hit, worse even than being pitied and alone. Such a mediocre hand-job shouldn’t get him off even with the tight pressure in his leaking nook making him crave release. Shame washed over him and he squeezed his eyes closed so tightly he saw stars. Galaxies of stars spinning through the belly of a frog he’d failed to save. Stars he’d heard die in the final moments of his sanity. And just like then, when the howling in his mind couldn’t be any more monstrous there was brilliant white light. And silence. And a vast emptiness nothing could ever fill.

The sound of Cronus’ zipper woke Mituna’s mind to the present where everything hurt but differently. He was talking now, and fussing with a second door Mituna hadn’t noticed before. “Here, I can’t get your room connected to this one, but I can do one of mine. We’ll just clean up and get dressed, you’ll like that." Reality shifted slightly and the second door opened. "See? I take such good care of you, you’re lucky I’m such a fantastic friend.”

Time passed, but not much, before Mituna got his tongue to work. “Kurlozz? Pleathze, I want…” Maybe Kurloz would help him forget this had ever happened. Cronus hauled him upright and Mituna didn’t even try to fight him this time. There wasn’t any point.

“You can’t tell Kurloz or Latula or anyone else about what we did. That’s our very private business, do you understand?" Why did Cronus have to be so close? Mituna just wanted _away._ Cronus leaned in even further. "If you tell anyone, everyone will be mad at you, _including me_.” Cronus shook his head with a small laugh. “I don’t know what I’m worried about; you couldn’t tell anyone if you tried. But _don’t_ try, I’m warning you. It’s a… a friendship pact.” Mituna nodded, he’d have agreed to anything to make the weird touching finally stop.

“Cool. Yeah. You’re a pal. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ART FOR THE FIC! ART FOR THE FIIIC!!! ART FOR THE FIC BY VASTDERP CAN BE FOUND HERE!](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com/post/121697149533/vastderp-art-for-makizushis-fantastically)
> 
>  
> 
> A huge thank you to my Smut-Editor-In-Chief. Despite their assistance I obsessively micro-edit even after posting, you have been warned.
> 
> This fic was requested by the esteemed [Vastderp](http://vastderp.tumblr.com) and loosely based on [this image](http://punispompouspornpalace.tumblr.com/post/55727592612/someone-doesnt-wanna-smooch-it-seems) by the wonderful [Punipunichu](http://punispompouspornpalace.tumblr.com/). (CW: Links are NSFW.)
> 
> Wanna ask me questions? Prompt me things? Yell at me about stuff? Come chat with me on my writing tumblr: [Tsunamayo Makizushi's Writing Tumblr](http://tsunamayo-makizushi.tumblr.com)
> 
> Kudos and comments are very appreciated, thank you for reading!


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